


Unique Tastes

by Zinfandel



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Boys Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Newt's a vampire yo, Vampires, credence digs it, he's a weird fuckin vampire, lol i love that tag, people mistake credence for the vampire lmao, poor guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9375332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinfandel/pseuds/Zinfandel
Summary: Tumblr prompt: ahahah vampire-newt who's still a cinnamon roll and very willing blood-donor credence.More like, Newt's a weird fuckin vampire who vampires in weird ways and Credence is so sheltered he just goes with it man. Until he finally remembers to ask questions and then things...get better :)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corpium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corpium/gifts).



“Alright, Credence!” Newt said as he threw open the door of his workshop and swanned out into-

_ Oh no _ !

Credence was about to make a move to help, or-or even say something maybe, possibly, but Newt was already strolling casually out into  _ sunlight _ . 

“Welcome to your new home!” He said with an expansive gesture and a laugh as he spun around grinning sharply from ear to ear, warm sunlight dappled through his light hair.

Credence stood in the doorway, blinking at the absolutely astounding sight before his eyes and couldn’t quite decide what was more confounding. That there was an entire world enclosed in a suitcase here, that there were bizarre animals crawling, squawking, and running all over the place, or that Newt Scamander, a self proclaimed  _ vampire _ , was strolling through the sunlight unhurt. 

So much had happened so quickly these past few days that Credence found himself accepting Mr. Scamander’s offer and explanations at face value before he was even fully human again, but right here? Now? Now the weight of his compliance was all catching up to him. 

He heard a heavy thump and registered pain up his spine before he knew that it was the sound of his feet slipping off the wooden steps and him landing hard upon them. Credence was blinking encroaching darkness from eyes when anxious hands fluttered into his line of sight.

“Credence? Credence what's wrong, what happened?” Newt was kneeling in front of him unsure and clearly worried, but Credence couldn’t muster a thought for him. 

“Ok, alright, uhm...Dougal? Dougal come here, please!” Newt called off to the side, wringing his hands against his stomach. “Dougal is quite good at comfort, he adores the occamy hatchlets, I’m sure he can...figure something, ah-Oh good, Dougal!” 

And then, then Credence had a lap full of white...creature, and it was hugging him and staring large luminous eyes back at Newt, and the ridiculousness of it all bubbled right over the edge. Credence hiccuped a laugh, then another and small skilled fingers were smoothing down his lapels and grabbing at his hands and Credence looked helplessly at Newt.

Newt who was sitting back in the dirt with a growing grin. “See, Dougal is great with everyone.” 

Everything Credence knew was changing, his old life ruined, and now he was being thrust into a strange fantasy world with apparent vampires and all manner of curious animals. Newt himself was beyond the pale and it was all so, so overwhelming Credence didn’t quite know what to do. 

So he hugged the soft animal named Dougal closer to himself and breathed in deeply. 

…

“Credence, would you pick up some lolli’s for me too while you’re out?” Newt asked, popping his head into into the open workshop door. 

Credence was smoothing down his frock and adjusting his hat when he turned back towards him with a frown. “Aren’t those ridiculously high in blood-sugar content?”

“No?” 

Credence sighed. “If you insist, but if I am questioned again if they are for me, you will not be receiving any new quills.” 

Newt only grinned a terrifyingly toothy thing before disappearing back into the enclosure proper. 

With a huff, Credence made his way up the ladder and out of the case into their flat to proceed on his way to run the weekly errands. He checked on their mostly unused rooms as he left and locked up to walk the mundane path to Diagon Alley. 

It had been a good few months now of this routine and he quietly appreciated it, felt powerful and self-sufficient being the one Newt now relied on to perform his ‘daylight tasks’. Some things a vampire cannot do, after all. Things like getting to shops during their hours of operation and dealing with witches and wizards without prejudice being the main issues. 

Though Credence dealt with his fair share of bigotry himself when he went out. Being branded a squib was just as bad as Mr. Graves made it seem, but Credence was more than happy to spare Newt these offenses when he could. Vampires certainly had a few more misconceptions to deal with than any non-magical wizards. 

Entering Diagon Alley, Credence made his way to Gringotts to access Newts expansive vault to procure his funds for the afternoon first. Newt was the embodiment of dichotomy to Credence. The vampire, befreckled by the sun with hair light and fresh, who spent more days covered in mud and dung and lived mostly in a shack, was disgustingly rich. That came from a couple centuries of adventuring and animal care Newt had said on the day he first brought Credence to the bank. 

There was much profit to be had in patience, and when any animal Newt housed died, he was quite efficient with their remains. Animal parts were a gold mine in wizarding markets, and Newt always scowled deeply at the bitter reminders of it, but he did what he must when he had to, so Credence followed his lead and solemnly lent his hands when duty arose. 

With money in hand, Credence first stopped at the ice cream shop for his weekly indulgence before proceeding down the street to lightly window shop as he ate his ice cream. Ice cream was never something he experienced until Newt introduced it to him and Credence adored the treat, he tried a new flavor every week. 

Walking past the shops, Credence stopped in front of the Magical Menagerie and finished his cone while watching a litter of crup-pups fight over a toy. 

Snack done, he went about his errands to pick up their needed supplies and other knick-knacks, stopping at Flourish & Blotts for a moment to buy some books for himself and to see Newt’s display for his recently published textbook. The sales were doing very well for them and Credence smiled to himself. It was apparently quite a large feat to sell so successful a book as a vampire. 

One last stop at Borgin & Burkes and Credence finished up and made his way home. 

…

Sitting in the shade of the bamboo at the edge of the forest, Credence gently combed his fingers through Fawkes the Phoenix’ feathers, doing what little the bird permitted to help him groom. Newt was laying out on a rock in the adjacent graphorn field soaking up the sun, his hands pillowing his head and his eyes closed. He had a content smile on his face, Newt did really enjoy the sun, and the artificial one in the case was quite ideal. It still burned Credence if he was in it for too long, though. 

“How old are you, really?” Credence asked quietly.

Newt cracked an eye open before turning back to his bathing. “Three hundred, give or take a few decades. Finally curious, are you?”

Credence shrugged but Newt couldn’t see it, “Why don’t you look like other vampires?”

“Fawkes.”

“What about him?”

“He’s a phoenix,” Newt said sleepily. He was being unfortunately vague, like always. 

“Yes, and?”

“Well Phoenix tears cure a great many ailments. Imagine what Phoenix blood can do?” 

His hand stilled on Fawkes’ neck. “He  _ let _ you drink his blood?”

“Fawkes and I go way back,” Newt replied flippantly. Fawkes in turn twisted and nipped at Credence’s fingers, he was apparently not allowed to stop his grooming. So be it. 

Credence let that sit with him for a bit. Newt drank phoenix blood. 

A weird feeling came over Credence. Newt always seemed so...well not ordinary of course, but his personality always overshadowed everything else about him. Credence often forgot he was a christian demon come to life straight from the bible, but the occasional reminders were rather disorienting. Usually he was grateful for them. Newt was a bigger monster than he was himself, and it was comforting to be in his presence, to feel small next to him, like he was safe to be around. 

“Do you drink other blood?” Credence asked before he knew what he was saying.

“Oh, yes,” Newt hummed, slightly amused. 

“Like...demiguise? Dougal’s?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“And Emaline's?”

“I have, but it is not the most pleasant, Nundu blood.”

“Occamy, Diricawl, Mooncalf?”

“Yes to all three. Is this a problem?” 

“And they let you? They let you have their blood?”

“Vampire bites don’t hurt unless they want it to, so yes. All of my animals are familiar with me and have endured various medical procedures at my hand, there is trust and and a level of acceptance with most creatures capable of it. Is something wrong?”

“No-” Credence replied too quickly. His voice caught in his throat and he swallowed hard. This was a whole different view on things. “I uh, sort of just thought you went out at night and...er...attacked someone?” 

And Newt laughed a short bark of a thing. “I could do that, but who wants boring old muggle blood.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way…”

Newt merely hummed and shifted position in the sun. Credence continued to arrange and smooth through Fawkes’ feathers, his mind traveling farther and farther away as he contemplated what exactly newt drinking the blood of his beasts entailed. 

….

“Credence, could you come and assist me for a moment?” Newt called from inside the shed. 

Credence quickly got up, brushing dirt from his hands.  He patted down the upturned earth with a bare foot to make sure the dung beetles wouldn't disturb the new garden patch before heading over to the shed. 

Quietly, Credence approached Newt and found him staring with consternation down at his cutting board, his cleaver to the side and thick roots taking up the middle. 

“What did you need help with?” Credence asked.

“Could you chop these for me?” 

So Credence nodded and took up the cleaver to cut the roots.

“Ah, ah-!” Newt stopped him before even the first slice. “You have to do it gently, cube them into thumb sized pieces.”

Credence nodded again and went to do as instructed.

“Wait.”

Credence paused his hand. 

“Curl your fingers under so you don’t chop off the tips.”

He obeyed and went to begin.

“Don’t forget to point the tip of the knife down-”

“Newt.”

“-And work from your shoulder-”

Credence huffed but shifted his arm correctly.

“-slice away from yourself-”

“Newt please-”

“-And cut quickly so the flesh isn’t bruised-”

“-Newt”

“Is the blade sharp enough? Should I get the whetstone?”

“Newt!” Credence finally snapped, thunking the knife down into the cutting board quite fed up with the hovering man. “Why do you need my help?”

“Because I cannot find my hands of course.”

Credence blinked and straightened.  _ What _ ?

He looked over at Newt, who sure enough had both arms held up, but there was nothing coming from his rolled cuffs.

“What?” Credence finally asked breathlessly, as he watched Newt grin all fangy and weirdly pleased with himself. “What did you  _ do _ ?” 

And Credence suddenly realized: this was all on purpose. His eyebrows lifted up skeptically as he watched Newt back up and laugh. 

“Demiguise blood,” Newt said all smiles. 

Credence impulsively reached a hand out for Newt’s and was not disappointed to clasp onto a cool palm he couldn’t see. The hand was certainly there, just completely invisible. 

“Interesting, right?”

“Different.” Credence grumbled as he pulled Newt’s hand towards himself and twisted his wrist to inspect the cloaked limb. 

“It’s quite involuntary, unfortunately.”

“You involuntarily turn invisible from drinking demiguise blood,” Credence said flatly.

“Quite,” Newt replied. “It certainly does make chores more difficult when you can’t quite tell where you’re reaching. Or cutting. I would actually prefer your assistance in this until they reappear.”

“How long will that take?”

“Blood affections wear off after a maximum of five days usually. So thank you in advance. I’m going to go catch the doxies for checkups. They’ll never see me coming,” He laughed as he strolled out of the workshed immensely pleased with himself. 

Credence sighed and got to chopping. Of course Newt would think it fascinating what he could do to himself, but Credence also began to wonder what other effects differing blood types could have on the man. It did seem quite a compelling experiment and Credence was more than positive Newt had tried all of them at some point. 

…

Slowly, the mystery began to solve itself. Now that Credence was aware of Newt and his odd palate for foreign bloods it seemed that Newt was downright invasive with demonstrating all of their peculiarities. 

He only sipped from a volunteer about once a month and supplemented the rest of his dietary needs mostly from his larger wards who could afford to donate in excess. Sometimes he even went after humans, but he clearly didn’t prefer it. 

And each month Newt blithely demonstrated the unique abilities he could derive from the magic blood of his creatures. 

Diricawl blood had him teleporting at least a few yards every time he hiccuped, and Credence was subjected to random bouts of giggles scattered here and there across the enclosures as Newt suffered his amusing fate. 

Graphorn blood gave him an immunity to spells as both affects on his person and also in casting, but it also dulled his sense of touch so he ended up fumbling his wand and utensils and cups to much grumbling. Credence found it rather entertaining, and since the Graphorns were such large creatures Newt was pretty used to these effects.

Thankfully, Newt didn’t grow an Erumpent horn. He did, however, develop violent, painful, and persistent bouts of sneezing. 

Credence thought there were a bit too many bad side-effects to the different blood types, but Newt seemed to really find them charming and Credence certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell him no. 

Some of them were useful too. 

A bit of Fwooper blood and Newt’s voice became absolutely mesmerizing in a maybe not so great way for friends to listen to, and Augurey blood allowed Newt to sense when rain was coming. Though, mooncalf blood simply left Newt a bit dreamy and extra sensitive to even the artificial sunlight of the case. 

These observations and demonstrations all lead Credence to one thought. One idea that endured and made him quite uncomfortable. 

What might his blood do?

It stood to reason that he, being not merely human himself, might possess blood that could affect Newt as well. 

Was Newt curious about it? How could he not be when, once he seemed to have permission, he earnestly demonstrated the various abilities he adopted. 

Did he want to try Credence’s blood? Sometimes, when the pair of them were absorbed in their chores, or when Credence was reading, he’d feel this prickle on his neck. He’d look up and find Newt watching him, staring unabashed at him as he worked or relaxed or merely existed. And every single time Newt would watch too long, would smile a slow and friendly smile that unnerved Credence no matter the innocent intentions of it. 

But now, in light of their friendship and Newt’s openness about his vampirism...were his intentions so innocent?

Credence couldn’t help the blush that warmed his cheeks at the thought.

Even if Newt’s intentions weren’t so innocent, they certainly weren’t for what Credence initially thought. 

Newt’s eyes had always seemed possessive, and Credence assumed they were captivated by him, but now, the more likely conclusion was that they desired his blood. 

And how backwards was it that not once in the months they have lived together did Credence ever conclude that Newt Scamander, a Vampire, wanted him for his blood? Until now that is. It was a testament to Credence’s shock and stress and Newt’s good character that he never even presumed that of Newt. What did it say about Credence that he thought these things now? That since his body had healed and the turmoil of his mind had eased his thoughts wandered to such violable things. 

He didn’t let himself think about how that made him twinge with pain all down his ribs. 

…

But once the idea was in his head, Credence couldn’t get rid of it. 

Newt’s gaze on him felt like a physical touch, and their conversations stalled in the wake of Credence’s preoccupation. He could tell Newt knew something was up but he was always too polite to ask.

So the pair of them fell into awkward moments and drawn out silences and Credence ached from them while completely unable to stop them.

Then, one afternoon as Credence sat in the grass beside the floating bowtruckle tree stitching up the torn seams of one of his shirts he felt that prickle. 

Suddenly his heart was racing and his hands stopped working and he looked up. 

Newt was in the entrance to the caves, a bucket in hand, his eyes piercing into Credence’s as they met and he was caught. 

Credence felt his lips fall open ever so slightly in shock and he held Newt’s gaze in his own. This time...this time Newt was the one to look away, to demure, and it liberated something inside Credence.

Before he knew quite was he was doing, Credence tipped his head to the side. His hands fell into his lap, fingers numb, and he seemed to listen to himself speak from a distance.

“Aren’t you curious?”

His words hung in the air as Newt’s eyes snapped back to his. Credence watched him visibly swallow and then grab at the bucket handle convulsively, rattling the metal against itself and sloshing the contents up it’s sides. 

He let Newt absorb what he said, didn’t try to add on or retract his question and eventually, eventually Credence was rewarded.

Newt seemed breathless when he whispered, “yes.” 

Credence smiled slightly as he set his sewing aside and beckoned Newt over to him with another tilt of his head. Newt came as bidden and power strangely beat through Credence’s veins. He knew without a shadow of a doubt he was in complete control here; Newt his to do with as he may. 

Soon enough, Newt set his pail on the slatted floor below and climbed up onto the small island to kneel beside Credence. His hands were clasped together, twisting his fingers when he asked, “Are you certain?” 

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, haven’t you?”

“Months.”

Credence hesitated at that. Having his suspicions confirmed felt like it should have been more of a blow, but the atmosphere around the pair of them dampened any ill thoughts with the anticipation of what was about to happen.

Instead of dwelling on it he asked, “Do you think something will happen? Because of the obscurus?”

“Because of you. You are the obscurus, and it might. A high probability. I don’t quite know. You are human, a wizard, and an obscurus. Who is to say which dominates your blood.” 

“Does wizard blood do anything?”

“Just a boost in magical capability, nothing to write about,” Newt answered automatically, as if he couldn’t help but obey Credence’s every desire. 

“Alright,” Credence muttered as he untied his tie then unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. He tipped his head back farther to invite Newt to his neck and watched him through hooded eyes as Newt swallowed some more and stared hard at his hands.

“Newt.”

Newt seemed to startle ever so slightly at the address. He blinked rapidly and glanced up at Credence’s neck then back down to Credence’s hands, his wrists, and stumbled over his words. “Are you certain you are certain-?” 

“Hurry up, Newt.”

“Yes, yes of course, alright,” He mumbled then knelt up onto his knees. 

Newt leaned over to Credence and braced himself with one hand on Credence’s thigh while his other cupped the back of his head and guided it into a more accommodating angle. 

Credence couldn’t help his sharp yet restrained gasp when Newt was so close he could feel his breath, hear him breathe, hear the precise way in which the air shivered, trembled, into his lungs and how he controlled his exhale upon the curve of Credence’s jaw. 

His own breath knotted within him and Credence could hear his heart beat in his skull when cool lips touched his skin. Newt was inhaling heavily into his neck, pressing his lips there and Credence couldn’t help himself. It was a kiss, it had to be a kiss, he refused to acknowledge that it likely wasn’t, but this intimacy was everything he craved and if nothing else was left he was going to treat this experience exactly how he wanted to in the safety of his own thoughts. 

Then it happened. 

And just like Newt said, there was no pain. Sharp teeth broke into his skin and Credence’s eyes fluttered shut. His lungs gusted out his exhale and tension flooded from his body at the finality of it. He could feel the invasion of Newt’s teeth keenly, how the points of them shifted against the softness of his flesh.

He breathed through it, finally feeling his utter helplessness and Newt caught his body. The hand on his thigh wrapped around his waist and the one on his head held him up as Newt’s mouth pressed him down. Credence found himself gripping one hand vice-like onto Newt’s wrist at his waist and his other found Newt’s knee to dig his fingers into as he was lowered down onto the grass. 

Soon he was laid out, his heels digging into the soil, and Newt was panting through his nose, vibrating a long low sound directly into Credence’s blood. He couldn’t help how his body reacted, how desire collected in his stomach and pressed against his spine, how his hips shifted in response and his fingers gripped tighter.

This was everything that bewitched his dreams, and suddenly Credence was more than alright with letting this happen forever, letting Newt consume him completely, dying in his arms if only it would please him. 

He was panting hard with it when coldness leached into his neck as the maddening feel of Newt’s teeth disappeared.  

And it was like waking to a different world when Credence opened his eyes long moments later. Newt’s hand on his hip shifted to twine their fingers together and the other disappeared from his hair entirely. He had lost all sense of time with Newt’s teeth in him, and now it was coming back to him in fits and starts. Credence could only vaguely grasp onto his still thundering heart as a clock, counting beats as it slowed, as he returned from that floating all consuming want. 

Looking up, Credence watched Newt touch his reddened lips and blinking rapidly. His pupils were blown wide and his focus was thoroughly on the middle ground when he clutched hard onto Credence’s hand. 

Then he began to tremble, almost vibrate with tension.

“Sweet Merlin’s  _ bloody _ knuckles-” 

“Newt?” Credence asked faintly, watching Newt above him. 

“Credence. Credence  _ oh _ -” Newt said, awed. He drew his hand from his lips and watched as before their very eyes Newts fingers dyed dark as ink and began to  _ smoke _ . 

His other hand began to waft blackened obscurus particles in Credence’s grip as well, but this didn’t seem to bother Newt in the slightest. He was transfixed on his blackened fingers, twisting his wrist and twirling his fingers to watch the patterns in the dust that sloughed from their tips. 

“Fascinating. Credence do you even comprehend how...how powerful you are?” Newt asked. “I can barely even contain all of this energy look at this, look at my hands…”

“Newt…” Was all Credence could manage as he squeezed the now fevered hand in his. 

This seemed to finally get Newt’s attention as he looked back down to Credence almost lying in his lap, goofy grin plastered on his bloody lips. 

His grin fell almost immediately. 

“Oh, i’m so sorry, are you alright? Did I take too much, you’re flushed, I took too much, didn’t I-”

“I’m fine…” Credence muttered, feeling his cheeks valiantly heat in humiliation as reality came surging back. Credence closed his eyes readying himself to make some excuse when Newt spoke again, his voice quiet and….reverent?

“Oh look at you,” He hummed, “Is this for me?”

His hand smoothed across Credence’s forehead, then fingers drew into his hair, petting it back from his face. Newt tilted Credence’s head towards him more fully and he continued speaking as if his words made any speck of sense. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry I didn’t know. I’ll fix it now though, if you’ll let me.”

“What?” Credence asked, completely confused, but his confusion overpowered his shame and allowed him to once again open his eyes. He was greeted with a sight that stole all sense.

Newt was smiling sweetly his eyes still dilated, and his cheeks, now full of blood, were a lovely dark blush. Credence gaped nearly stupefied at the sight, and his lips drew Newt’s attention like a beacon.

“May I kiss you, Credence?” 

“Uh?”

“I’d very much like to kiss you right now,” Newt babbled as a nervous sort of grin returned to his features. “You see, I’ve been functioning under a delusion for quite some time now that my feelings would forever remain unreciprocated, but that is not the case at all is it? Just look at you. How could I have ever mistook  _ this _ ...May I please kiss you?” 

“Er...Really?” Credence asked, blinking in disbelief.

Newt only squeezed his hand tighter and drew his fingers down Credence’s jaw to lightly play across his chin then to press gently into his lower lip. “Yes, really.” 

And Credence felt light headed with the fierceness of the blush that flushed his face. Newt grinned wider and more freely happy at the sight.

“Then, yes please. I’d...like that.”

And the taste of his own blood on Newt’s lips was more heady than any bite to his neck could ever be. Credence licked into Newts mouth immediately needy and immediately accommodated; his tongue dancing gingerly over the points of Newt’s vampiric teeth and smoothing across the roughness of his hard palate. 

He could feel Newt smile against him and in response, Credence reached up with his free hand to grab the man by the shirt and tug him right down against him. Newt began to laugh in delight in the middle of their kiss as blood smeared across their lips and Credence couldn’t help but smile back, a giddiness bubbling up in him. 

Because this? 

This was beyond his best dreams. 

This was the most real he had ever felt. Newt wanted him just as much as he did, and he was kissing him back fiercely as the two of them sprawled across the grass of the bowtruckle’s knoll in the warming false sunlight of Newt’s fantastic magical suitcase. 

**Author's Note:**

> and then they frick.
> 
> or something.
> 
> come prompt me at tumblr :) zinfandelli.tumblr.com


End file.
